The Inn at Rose Harbor: A Rose Harbor Novel
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From #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber comes the first book in a series set in the beloved Pacific Northwest town of Cedar Cove.
Jo Marie Rose first arrives in Cedar Cove seeking a fresh start. A young widow coping with the death of her husband, she purchases a local bed-and-breakfast—the newly christened Rose Harbor Inn—ready to begin her life anew. Her first guest is Joshua Weaver, who has come home to care for his ailing stepfather. The two have never seen eye to eye, and Joshua has little hope that they can reconcile their differences. Jo Marie’s other guest is Abby Kincaid, who has returned to Cedar Cove to attend her brother’s wedding. Back for the first time in twenty years, she almost wishes she hadn’t come, the picturesque town harboring painful memories. And as Abby and Joshua try to heal from their pasts, and Jo Marie dreams of the possibilities before her, they all realize that life moves in only one direction—forward.
Praise for Debbie Macomber and The Inn at Rose Harbor
“No one tugs at readers’ heartstrings quite as effectively as [Debbie] Macomber.”—Chicago Tribune
“Debbie Macomber is the reigning queen of women’s fiction.”—The Sacramento Bee
“Charming . . . warm and serene . . . a wonderful novel.”—Bookreporter
together again. I just knew it.” Abby wasn’t ready to go quite that far, but she felt it was a start. Chapter 16 “It’s thoughtful of you to do this for Richard,” Michelle said as they loaded the walker Josh had purchased at the local pharmacy into the back of his vehicle. “Knowing how stubborn he is, Richard will probably refuse to use it.” It would be just like his stepfather. “Still, it’s worth a try. I don’t like the idea of him trying to walk on his own. It would be far too easy for
Corrie McAfee. Although I didn’t know either woman well, I had the feeling that given time both would become friends. Sitting in front of the fireplace, I reached for my current knitting project. I almost always had three going at the same time. The socks were easy projects to take with me, which was good because I found I fidgeted if my hands were idle for long. I have practically no patience. I didn’t used to be like this, but since I lost Paul I haven’t been able to sit still for long
her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “It’s time, Josh, he’s dying,” she choked out. The words came at him like a baseball bat in the dark and clobbered him directly in his chest. “Now?” he asked, frozen with shock. Michelle nodded. “I have the phone number for hospice. They know how to handle this … we should probably call them.” She hurried into the kitchen and reached for the pad on the counter. “Would you mind making the call … please.” Talking was beyond her at the moment. Josh reached
scrawl, which spelled out his name. The funeral director did his best to swallow a smile with limited success. “As I recall, when I suggested an attorney, Mr. Lambert was unwavering in his opinion of lawyers and claimed he wasn’t paying one to hand over a piece of paper.” “Sounds like Richard,” Josh said, smiling himself. “I believe that’s it then,” George Thompson said, closing the file. “I’ll get Richard’s burial clothes to you first thing tomorrow morning,” Michelle said as they stood in
the stiff wooden back of the booth. They’d both been dealt a shock. While they’d known Richard’s death was imminent, it still unsettled them. Dealing with death, no matter whose it was, wasn’t easy. “I know you cared a great deal for Richard,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “I’m grateful to you and your family for looking after him. After my mother and Dylan died you were probably the only people left in his world who cared about him.” Consumed by grief, Richard had made an art